


Pen and Ink

by 3littleowls



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Writing on the Body, eggy porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 03:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3littleowls/pseuds/3littleowls
Summary: Ficlet in response to a lovely image prompt provided by Rigel99.





	Pen and Ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rigel99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigel99/gifts), [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts), [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts).



Q twisted his hands in the bindings, just to feel the hemp rub across his wrists.

“Stay still,” Bond warned him, “You’ll ruin it.”

Q stopped moving immediately, and the steady scratching across his back started again. It didn’t hurt- the nib on the glass pen wasn’t sharp- but the continued drag across his skin sensitized it, lit up his nerves from the repetition. Every few letters it would stop and Bond would lift the pen, and the weight of his body pressed across the back of Q’s thighs would shift as Bond reached for the inkwell. Q couldn’t see- his eyes were covered with one of Bond’s silk ties- but he could hear the click of glass against glass as Bond dipped. Q hummed when the writing resumed, A warm hand holding his skin taught, and then the tingle of the nib momentarily more intense for the pause.

Q didn’t know how long it took, eventually his mind was set to drifting. He was aware the words being placed on his skin were slowly being drawn lower and lower on his back, and eventually, Bond set the pen down. Q shivered as Bond blew over Q’s skin, speeding the wet ink to dry.

“There,” Bond declared. “That will do.”

Firm hands helped Q sit up. The change in the position and the blindfold was disorientating, and Q had to rely on the assistance.

“Nice and slow now,” Bond pulled Q from the blankets on the floor, holding his bound hands, guiding him through the flat. Q stepped without hesitation, trusting Bond would navigate him through the living room and dining room without him tripping over a chair. Q was stopped when they reached the kitchen, his bare feet curling on the cool tiles.

“Kneel now,” Bond ordered, and Q obeyed, sinking down to his knees with his hands in his lap.  
“Perfect.”

Q heard Bond rummaging around the kitchen, opening and closing the refrigerator, humming to himself. A pan clattered on the stove. Sometimes Q could feel Bond’s presence nearby as he looked at the writing on his back. The rhythmic back and forth of a knife on the cutting board.  
Q shifted his knees on the hard floor.

“Stay still. This is what happens when boffins co-opt ipads that are not his for experiments. The one in the kitchen that I use for recipes. Tell me you understand.”

A shiver ran down Q’s spine. “I understand, James.”

“Good. Now don’t fidget.”

The ache in his knees and the coldness of the tiles annoyed Q. It’s all he could think about as Bond puttered around in the kitchen. It distracted him and poked at his brain until he remembered to let it go. To sit with the discomfort, to accept it and allow his body to process it, until it settled down and became background noise. He thought about his breathing instead, smells of food cooking, what the recipe must look like on his pale back.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he started when fingers brushed his chin.

“Sorry,” Bond said with a touch of amusement. “Dinner is almost finished. Taste this.”

Q opened his mouth to accept the warm food that was given to him. Creamy egg yolk melted across his tongue first, then as he chewed he discovered bit of vegetables- onion, sweet potato and was that roasted fennel? He moaned softly as his taste buds found a sea salt flake. In the headspace he was in, the flavors were so amplified.

Bond chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He reached behind Q’s head and undid the tie blindfold, and Q blinked owlishly in the sudden light.

“Have we learned our lesson not to tinker with things that aren’t ours?” Bond asked, eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Probably not,” Q admitted, which made Bond bark a quick laugh. “But I’ll not tamper with the recipe tablet again.”

Bond shook his head. “Well good enough for now. Let’s get you off the floor and feed you before we scrub your back.”

Q tilted his head. “Ah. I should probably tell you something about the music player in the dining room…”


End file.
